iNeed To Hit Something
by White Firebird
Summary: Oneshot. A look at some of the times where Sam needs to hit something and Freddie just happens to be right there, a ready and willing target.


**I know...I'm bad. I know I should be updating Truth & Consequences and iGo To Japan Again, but I got this idea out of the blue and thought it was really funny, and really nice, and so I felt that I just had to write it before it escaped my mind. I promise, T & C and iGTJA will be updated soon...but in the meantime, enjoy this one shot!**

* * *

Freddie saw Jonah and his new girlfriend for this week (her name was Trina? He wasn't really paying attention) walk away, both of them laughing, while he shook his head in disappointment, not even noticing how rigid Sam had gotten. Slowly turning to face his half friend, half enemy, he saw her face turn a dark shade of red. Her lips were pursed together, her eyes narrowed considerably, and Freddie knew that face could only mean one thing.

Sam needed to hit something. And fast.

"Sam…"

"I'm gonna kill him."

"I'm sure he didn't _really_ mean to say that you're a blond headed bimbo…"

"I'm gonna rip his fucking head off and play soccer with it."

She wasn't yelling, and that was a scary, scary thing when it came to Sam. When she was yelling, at least she wasn't completely at her breaking point when it came to keeping her anger in check. But when her voice was calm and steady like it was now, **and **she was dropping the F bomb…Freddie knew better than to try and reason with her down. So he did the one thing that knew would help her release her anger so that she could go back to the way she was a few minutes ago...basically, not pissed off.

He stood in front of her and rolled the sleeve up on his shirt, getting Sam to shift her eyes ever so slightly to his bare arm. Was he going to like what was about to happen? Not one bit. But if it meant that Sam didn't actually kill Jonah, it'd be worth it…in a weird, painful kind of way.

"Punch my arm, Sam. Just do it."

"If I do, I'll probably break it."

"I'd rather you break my arm than go to jail again."

He knew that she was weighing the options in her head, even if her face didn't show it. She took a deep breath, balled up her fist, cocked it back, and then unloaded the hardest punch Freddie would probably ever feel (at least until the next time she wanted to hurt him without being pissed off). She stormed off, seemingly pleased that she was able to take her aggression out, while Freddie did his best not to let out a scream of pain as he slowly made his way to the nurses office.

On the bright side, at least he had aced his math test earlier…

* * *

"The two meanest teachers in school are now our new co-principals…"

Freddie couldn't believe that Principal Franklin had gotten fired for having a little fun with him, Carly and Sam. _So what_ if he had emerged from a giant pair of pants and willingly sat on some Fudge Balls? It was all because he wanted to wish his daughter a happy birthday on the show that she was a big fan of. It was all so jank, but then he realized that Sam was standing right next to him…

"Sam…"

"I need to hit something."

Freddie knew this routine better than anyone else (for some reason, he was always around whenever she reached this level of anger), but he didn't know how he was going to help her out this time. His arm was still feeling pretty bruised up, his legs were off limits, the laptop in his hands was one of his good ones, and he didn't want her punching a wall or breaking school property…but then he realized the amount of stuff he had in his backpack…and his solution was found.

"Wait a sec…here, punch my backpack."

"Are you sure?"

"Totally! I've got four text books and two pairs of gym clothes in here…go for it."

She gave him a once over, then reared her arm back, and socked him right in the gut. And despite all the stuff in his backpack, he still felt the pain, and as she walked away towards class or the bathroom or whatever, he fell to his knees, out of breath, feeling like he was going to black out, as he fell to the ground and laid there for a few good seconds before picking himself up (very slowly) off the ground.

On the bright side, at least their last iCarly had gotten over 900,000 viewers…

* * *

Freddie stood in Carly's apartment, mouth hanging open, after hearing his own mother liken Sam to a dirty hobo. Carly and Spencer shared the same look of shock as well. After he told his mom off and forced her back to their apartment across the hall, Freddie returned to the inside of Carly's apartment and saw Carly and Spencer doing their best to try and calm the fiery and obviously pissed off blond down as best they could. But Freddie…he knew better than to try and please Sam with beef jerky and smoothies when she got like this.

So he decided to try and shake things up a bit today.

"Freddie!? What are you doing!?"

"Trust me, this'll work…"

He stood in front of Sam, who was sitting down on the couch, and took his shirt off to reveal his bare back. Normally, this would have grossed Sam out or caused her to rip on him verbally for at least three weeks. But not now.

"Sam, slap me across the back as hard as you can."

Normally, she'd ask if he was sure or crazy, something like that. But she didn't even do that much this time around. She stood up, spat on her hand, and then slapped it so hard that they heard Lewbert scream to keep the noise down...from the lobby. Freddie stood there, knees growing weak, the vibrations from the slap being felt inside the entire room as Carly stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging, while Spencer covered his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between the giant, red hand print on Freddie's back to Sam, who was now apparently calm, because next thing they knew…

"I'm gonna go to Pink Bunny…anyone want any yogurt?"

On the bright side, at least she was getting yogurt for him…

* * *

Freddie looked at his paper and smiled to himself; despite Mrs. Briggs' and her ridiculously strict ways when it came to teaching, he had managed to get a decent grade on his last quiz; a B-, something that wasn't up to his standards, but with Briggs, it was better than nothing. But then he turned around to face Sam, who sat behind him and used him as a cover so that she could sleep without Briggs yelling at her, and his face paled. Looking at his own paper and then hers, he saw that she had copied him, and therefore, should have gotten the same exact grade as him…except Briggs purposely failed her. This wasn't good news. This meant that Sam was ready to explode…again. He had to think quickly.

"Sam…psst, Sam…"

"She's lucky if her car doesn't spontaneously combust when she leaves."

"Sam! Don't do that! Here…"

He stuck his leg out in the middle of the aisle and motioned with his head down to it, knowing that if he didn't do this now, she'd get right up, leave the room and then do God knows what.

"Kick my leg, do whatever to it."

"I'm not going to--"

"Just do it before Briggs sees!"

Without giving it a second thought, she reared her leg back and kicked it with the force of David Beckham on all kinds of steroids. Freddie could have sworn he felt something crack, but it didn't matter. Within a few seconds, Sam was back in her usual place, head down, resting on the desk as she dozed off, while Freddie did his best to ignore the pain and take notes for both himself and 'Sleeping Beauty' (a nickname he had given her since all she _did_ in class was sleep).

On the bright side, at least they had iCarly to do tonight…

* * *

Freddie walked into Carly's apartment, expecting to see both her and Sam sitting in their usual spots upon the couch, but only saw Carly there, flipping through the channels as she did her history homework. Maybe she was in the bathroom or taking a shower (lord knows she didn't take any when she was at her own home), but the look Carly was giving him upon sitting down told him otherwise.

"Sam's not here?"

"Nah…she got really upset…"

"Where is she? She's not killing something…or someone, is she?"

"No…she left…you weren't here for her to beat on, so she's out in front of the building on one of the benches, throwing Fat Cakes at joggers."

"Oh…"

Instantly, Freddie felt bad. As much as it was killing his body to be Sam's punching bag, in a freaky sort of way, he kind of enjoyed it. And he was doing it for her own good, really. If he wasn't there to be slapped around by her, she'd be doing something far more destructive and illegal, so it wasn't a total loss. He didn't want to see Sam in jail, so he'd gladly take a few lumps here and there if it meant that she'd be free from living behind bars.

"I'm uh…I'm gonna go see if she's alright."

"Alright…just try to come back in one piece, alright?"

Freddie nodded his head, waving goodbye to Carly as he exited the apartment and took the elevator down to the lobby, avoiding Lewbert, before exiting and, sure enough, finding Sam on one of the nearby benches, a giant mound of Fat Cakes (low fat, too) at her disposal as she whizzed one across the street, watching it smack one poor sucker in the side of the head, knocking him down. Taking a seat next to her, he watched her fling another one at a jogger that just passed, the junk food treat hitting the older woman in the back of the head. Freddie stifled a laugh, but Sam remained silent as he took one of the Fat Cakes and ate it, before throwing the half-eaten pink ball at a fat man who was walking by. Freddie decided that now would probably be best to break the ice and see what was wrong with her.

"So…large pile of Fat Cakes ya got there, huh Sam."

"Yep."

"You gonna eat the ones you don't use as a weapon?"

"Maybe."

"Sam, what's wrong."

She stopped herself mid throw to look at Freddie, giving him a look that basically asked him, _'What kind of a stupid question is that?'_. But, figuring that if she didn't answer him, he'd go all crazy protective on her, she decided to appease him for once.

"Just had a bad day at school."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Jonah came onto me…tried hitting on me…tried kissing me…"

"Oh…oh my god…are you alright?"

"Yeah. I kicked him where the sun doesn't shine, then skipped the rest of the day and came here. Spencer tried talking to me, but he had to run off before anything productive was said. And when you didn't come back with Carly, I got even more upset…"

"Sam, I'm sorry…is there any way I can make it up to you?"

She thought about this for a few moments, trying to find her voice after spilling her figurative guts out to someone she was supposed to hate, wondering how Freddie Benson of all people could help her. But then a thought crossed her mind, and she knew how.

"Well…since you weren't around for me to punch or slap…there's one thing you can do."

"What's that?"

"Stand still."

"Wha--?"

Sure enough, Sam picked up a Fat Cake and threw it in Freddie's face, a laugh escaping her throat as Freddie closed his eyes and smiled, chuckled even, the treat falling onto the bench with the other ones. The two of them were laughing their heads off, causing passers by to give them weird looks (not that they cared or anything), before finally calming down, with Sam reaching over and giving Freddie a brief, yet warm, calming and friendly hug, one he returned happily.

"Thanks for always being my punching bag, Freddork."

"Hey, as long as it keeps you out of jail, I'll be your personal punching bag for the rest of your life."

This brought a smile to Sam's lips as she took another thing of Fat Cakes and tossed it at a business man, watching it splatter against his suit, leaving white, brown and pink globs of the treat everywhere on his shirt, tie and pants. She grabbed another and tossed it to Freddie, basically telling him to join in on the action while there was still sunlight, before they went back to Carly's for dinner. He accepted and smiled back at her as he tossed one at a car that drove by, managing to hit the rear windshield.

"Hate you, dork."

"Hate you too, demon."

And finally, on the bright side…at least things were back to normal.

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**And that's it! Review if you'd like, they're appreciated (thanks to those who reviewd Random Mouth Dancing!). And now, FINALLY, I'll go finish chapter 12 of T & C...lates.**


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